Hulk by Peter David (e reader manga TXT) 📕

The pilot nodded to him, indicated that Talbot should strap in, and, the moment that was done, the blade speed increased and the chopper rose skyward. Moments later it was angling off toward Desert Base. Talbot knew that Thunderbolt Ross was angry. That didn’t bother Talbot at all. He knew the old man all too well, and knew how to manipulate him as easily as he did anyone else. Ross had his agenda and Talbot had his, and Talbot knew whose was going to come out on top.

Betty couldn’t believe that she was jealous of Glen Talbot again, but apparently such was the case. Not enough that she felt he had more of a connection with her father than she did. Now she was confronted with the fact that, in all her time, all her involvement with Bruce, he had always remained on such an infuriatingly even keel that she often wondered if he were fully human. Yet here, after merely his second meeting with Talbot, Bruce had almost looked ready to punch the guy in the face. Not that she had any doubts about who would win a fistfight. Glen Talbot, civilian or no, was trained in combat and self-defense. Bruce Krenzler was trained in science and the arts. If it came to a witty repartee contest, or a competition to name all the elements on the periodic table, Bruce was a lock. Hand-to-hand, it was a very different story.

In any event, as ludicrous as it seemed, she was a bit envious that Glen Talbot was able to inspire such emotional reactions from Bruce when she herself could only prompt passive detachment at best.

She tried to put it from her mind as she made preparations for the next experiment. A new frog—named Rick by the hopelessly attached Harper—sat in the gammasphere place of honor that had seen so many of his brethren go splat. The readings were steady. She glanced across the room at Bruce, and saw that he was totally focused. . . .

No. No, he wasn’t. He seemed distracted, and kept glancing toward the door that Talbot had left through. Betty didn’t need to be a mind reader to see just what, or who, Bruce was concerned about. She didn’t just want to let it hang there. She cared about Bruce too much. Plus, having one’s head scientist not paying attention to what was going on in such a delicate environment could lead to fairly nasty consequences.

Still, maybe there wasn’t time . . .

Then the time factor became moot as Harper, at his monitoring station, called out, “Okay, fifteen seconds. We’re set for doubled exposure,” only to mutter a curse a moment later, followed by a frustrated, “um . . . hmm . . . well.”

Betty headed over toward Harper and saw a blinking message on a monitor screen that read “Interlock Negative.” Well, she certainly knew what that meant: Among other things, they were going to have a brief delay before matters proceeded any further. That being the case, she had no reason not to take a few moments to speak to Bruce and get a handle on the situation.

“Hey, Harper, there a problem?” asked Bruce.

Harper sighed as Betty walked past him. “The interlock switch flaked again. It’ll just be a sec.”

Getting the interlock in order was certainly a priority. It was the device that automatically sealed the sphere when gamma radiation was released. It was a fail-safe device, and the prospect of having something go wrong with it was simply unthinkable.

As Harper grabbed a respirator mask and entered the airlock gammasphere chamber, Betty sidled over to Bruce, who was seated at his monitor station and watching everything occurring with hawklike intensity. “Bruce, I thought we should talk. About Glen.”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” said Bruce. He still sounded angry. Amazing that Glen could bring that out in him. Then again, perhaps not. Glen had certainly brought it out in her enough times.

As gently as she could, she said, “Hey, Bruce. It’s me.”

Bruce was watching Harper through the glass window. Harper was wedged in the center of the gammasphere, testing the interlock switch. But he took the time to look at Betty and smile. He had a lovely smile. He should do it more.

“Sorry,” said Bruce.

“Don’t worry about him, okay? I’ll handle it.”

Bruce looked at her warily. “How?”

She knew the answer before he asked, but even so she couldn’t quite believe she was saying it. “I’ll call my father. He can exert some pressure.”

Slowly Bruce shifted the whole of his attention to her. If she’d just informed him she’d been impregnated by the shade of Elvis while pumping gas, she couldn’t have been subjected to a more cautious look of bewilderment.

“Last I heard,” said Bruce, “you and your father weren’t speaking.”

Betty shrugged, trying to sound offhand about it, as if the concept was the most routine matter in the world. “All the more reason I should call him.”

The thought of doing so wasn’t exactly on Betty’s top ten list of things she’d like to do. In fact, it didn’t even place in the top one hundred. But her thoughts on Bruce’s reaction to Talbot had caused her to reassess her feelings. Obviously she had completely misjudged the depth of feeling that Bruce had for Talbot, and she’d exacerbated it by going out to dinner with him. That had been very, very foolish. Not only had it upset Bruce, but it had also given Talbot an inflated sense of self-confidence. There was nothing to do for it now but try to make things right, and if that meant swallowing some pride and asking her father’s help, so be it.

The problem was that she had no way of knowing for sure if Thunderbolt Ross would even agree to help. Her father didn’t know Bruce from Shinola, so it was unlikely he would intervene just to keep Dr. Bruce Krenzler happy in his work. In fact,